


Hate me

by Savvylicious



Category: Final Fantasy 9, Final Fantasy IX
Genre: :c, Gen, I was in a mood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 11:40:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12387372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savvylicious/pseuds/Savvylicious
Summary: Kuja abandons the more 'improved' Genome and wrestles with feelings he doesn't quite understand.





	Hate me

   The boy in his arms was surprisingly heavy, and Kuja wanted very much to simply drop him into the ocean and be done with it. His skin crawled with malcontent, furious beyond measure that Garland had the gall to create another Genome when the fool had him and then the audacity to call him inferior. Rage boiled his blood and Kuja squeezed the child, paying no heed to its squeal of discomfort. The earth was nearing, and he was still trying to decide on how best to dispose of his burden.

   Despite his anger, Kuja landed gracefully, white hair billowing out as his feet touched the earth. Sniffing with disdain, he pried the boy from his neck and held him at arms length, glaring. He dangled, looking pathetic with his wind-swept hair and watery eyes. He looked about ready to cry, but it wasn’t as if Kuja cared. He  _hated_  Zidane.

   Glancing around, he took notice of a river. To his right a cliff, and the sea below. So many ways he could kill the child and he couldn’t decide.

   Zidane whimpered, wiggling in his grasp feebly, and Kuja turned his cold gaze back upon him. Laughable really, to think that Garland thought this wriggling infant would ever surpass him. Kuja sneered at Zidane’s distress.

   With disdain, he brought the boy closer, deciding that he wanted to squeeze the life from Zidane with his own hands. His grip tightened, long nails digging into the toddler’s stomach and chest, and the child squeaked in response. Kuja felt a satisfied smile start to grow on his lips, but solemned abruptly when he felt small hands on his cheek.

   Zidane pushed at his face, tears streaming from his frightened blue eyes. He was cringing away from the pain and all at once Kuja could understand his babbled pleading.

       "Hurts… Kuja hurts!“ He whispered, quietly. “Stop… Please?”

   The older Genome stared.

       "Sorry… _I’m sorry_. Please…  **Stop**.“

 Kuja swallowed.

       Keening breathlessly, Zidane struggled. His tail swished back and forth in panic and his hands on Kuja’s face became more frantic. He pulled at his brothers hair, begging pitifully. Kuja simply stared down, smile fading, and recalled the days before Garland had revealed his true plans for Zidane.

   They’d been inseparable, as wherever Kuja had gone, Zidane followed. At first he thought it a nuisance, as the boy was incapable of looking after himself, but as the days went on, Kuja found it endearing. He’d been alone with Garland for so long that even Zidane’s unintelligible company was welcome. Zidane looked on at the world with a brightness and joy that Kuja couldn’t understand, and for that he was jealous.

   He wished he could rise in the morning with excitement shining in his eyes.

   He wished he could laugh at the way the animals around them pranced. He wished he could enjoy the taste of food and the touch of another as much as Zidane did. He wished he could return the unwavering fondness Zidane beamed up at him whenever they were together.

         But he could not.

   He felt no joy. He felt no sadness. No remorse. Nothing was funny to him.

   But none of that seemed to matter whenever he had Zidane with him. Zidane did enough feeling for the both of them, and the emptiness Kuja felt always seemed to lessen in the boy’s presence.

   Disgusted with himself, Kuja let his grip falter, and Zidane gasped in relief. His hands fell away from Kuja’s hair and face, coming instead to rest on Kuja’s wrists. He knew somehow that Kuja was upset with him, but did not understand why. He wanted very much to go home and hide under his bed, and whimpered in confusion when he was set down gently on the grass.

   Zidane looked up, trembling at his brother’s feet. Kuja regarded him coolly for a moment, then began to hover.

   "I’ve changed my mind. I’m going to spare you,” He rose higher into the air, ignoring the hands that reached for him. “If you are superior to me, then you will survive. You will grow and learn and one day you will meet me again in battle. I will destroy you then, and we will see just whom is greater than the other.”

      “Kuja… Kuja don’  _leave_  me!”

   "Goodbye, little gremlin.  I shan’t miss your screeching voice, or the feel of your deft hands in my hair. Your sleeping face tucked in the crook of my arm is not a sight I wish to see again.“

             ” ** _Kuja_**!“

   "Your drool on my thigh always disgusted me you know. You borish little  _rat_.” His shoulders curled, and the sides of his eyes burned with a sensation that was unfamiliar. “I hope you fall into a lake and drown. You’re  _unwated_. You’re  _ **useless**_.”

        Zidane was bawling now, wailing loud enough for the nearest village to hear.

   Kuja wiped furiously at the wetness that dripped down his face, turning quickly to ignore the screams of distress below him. His cheeks burned and he had the fierce desire to incinerate something.

_    I hate you  **Zidane**. I hate you  **Zidane**.I hate̤͈ ̣͍̠y̱̰͔̥̬͖o̤̠͉̬̖̣u͔̜̗̱̣͚͖͖̩ ̞͓̺ **Z̦̩i͚d̙̦̠a͖͎͙̼̳n̯̣͍̜̰͕͉e͇͖**.I̕̕ ̧͠ha͏t͢e̛͏ ̶y̧̡̡o̴ư͘.͟ I̡ ͘h̷͞at̕e̕ ̨͘y͜͞ǫu ̵̧I̷͝ ̴̢hat̷͠͞ȩ̕ ̸̶͠y҉̵͘o͢͠u̵̶ ̷̢I͘ hate̶͟͞ ̛y̷̧ouI̡ ͘h̷͞at̕e̕ ̨͘y͜͞ǫu ̵̧I̷͝ ̴̢hat̷͠͞ȩ̕ ̸̶͠y҉̵͘o͢͠u̵̶ ̷̢ **Z̴͏̩̮̝͍̰̠̼̳i͈͙̖̣̝d̳̭͉͓͚a̸̡̨̯̲͖͖̰͓̼͇͉n̢͇̗ę͔͓̺̜͕͔**  I͘ hate̶͟͞ ̛y̷̧ouI̡ ͘h̷͞at̕e̕ ̨͘y͜͞ǫu ̵̧I̷͝ ̴̢hat̷͠͞ȩ̕ ̸̶͠y҉̵͘o͢͠u̵̶ ̷̢I͘ hate̶͟͞ ̛y̷̧ouI̡ ͘h̷͞at̕e̕ ̨͘y͜͞ǫu ̵̧I̷͝ ̴̢hat̷͠͞ȩ̕ ̸̶͠y҉̵͘o͢͠u̵̶ ̷̢I͘ hate̶͟͞ ̛y̷̧ouI̡ ͘h̷͞at̕e̕ ̨͘y͜͞ǫu ̵̧I̷͝ ̴̢hat̷͠͞ȩ̕ ̸̶͠y҉̵͘o͢͠u̵̶ ̷̢I͘ hate̶͟͞ ̛y̷̧ou **Z̴͏̩̮̝͍̰̠̼̳i͈͙̖̣̝d̳̭͉͓͚a̸̡̨̯̲͖͖̰͓̼͇͉n̢͇̗ę͔͓̺̜͕͔**  I̡ ͘h̷͞at̕e̕ ̨͘y͜͞ǫu ̵̧I̷͝ ̴̢hat̷͠͞ȩ̕ ̸̶͠y҉̵͘o͢͠u̵̶ ̷̢I͘ hate̶͟͞ ̛y̷̧ou  _I͘ hate̶͟͞ ̛y̷̧ouI̡ ͘h̷͞at̕e̕ ̨͘y͜͞ǫu ̵̧I̷͝ ̴̢hat̷͠͞ȩ̕ ̸̶͠y҉̵͘o͢͠u̵̶ ̷̢I͘ hate̶͟͞ ̛y̷̧ou **Z̴͏̩̮̝͍̰̠̼̳i͈͙̖̣̝d̳̭͉͓͚a̸̡̨̯̲͖͖̰͓̼͇͉n̢͇̗ę͔͓̺̜͕͔ _ _̵̧I̷͝ ̴̢hat̷͠͞ȩ̕ ̸̶͠y҉̵͘o͢͠u̵̶ ̷̢I͘ hate̶͟͞ ̛y̷̧ou **Z̴͏̩̮̝͍̰̠̼̳i͈͙̖̣̝d̳̭͉͓͚a̸̡̨̯̲͖͖̰͓̼͇͉n̢͇̗ę͔͓̺̜͕͔**__**_ _

**                                   _B̵̯͈̣̘̜̭̖̪̯͢ut I hate my̷͢s̷̕ȩl͠f̷͡ more._ **


End file.
